On Prim's side
by Paradise Pegasus
Summary: The 75th Hunger Games is almost here. This time, Prim finally has to step into the unknown; to survive, she must try to become another Girl On Fire. As tutors, Katniss and Peeta cooperate and do all they can to help Prim, but meanwhile discovering the dark sides of the competition. They only have one mission. Make Prim the Champion.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I'm not Suzanne Collins and I do not own the Hunger Games.

_This story is_ _set after Katniss and Peeta return to District 12 after their Winners' Journey. And because I lived in HK, I am reading the translated version of the HG trilogy, so I'm not sure about the proper nouns appeared in the novel (for example, the 'Winners' Journey' is a word which I translate directly from the Chinese word). Sorry for that! I have been finding the correct terms of these nouns by flipping the original books in English, but still I need your help. If you find some wrong terms in this fic, feel free to leave a comment to let me know. Thanks a lot, and enjoy!_

**Chapter One** Katniss

I dreamt of President Snow. At first I didn't know where I was, nor did I know what was going on. I couldn't see anything-except fire. Red hot flames were burning the plains and forests, as if they were starving beasts. It grew into the face of a man whom I hate the most. President Snow and me, only one could survive.

The fire growled-or was it laughing? Was _he_ laughing? 'There you are, the Girl on Fire. Do you think you can escape from me? Look at you, a weak, terrified 16-year-old, trying to fight against me. Do you think you can succeed? What about your beloved District 12? Can it survived, too?' the flames started crawling up my legs, waist, collarbone, and I couldn't help but screamed in pain. 'That's it, Katniss Everdeen. Think about the consequences before you act.' his words sent a chill down my spine. My internal heart was cold, but my skin suffered from heat. My body was shouting for coolness, but my mind was freezing.

_Think about the consequences before you act._

What would be left after the rebellion? Yes, that was the question that lingered in my head: _what would be left? _

I gasped, struggling to breathe. I woke up. I was sweating, panting and coughing, as if I had just come out from the fire. 'It's only a dream,' I comforted myself. But even I doubted my words. Was it really a nightmare? Or was it the worst thing that would happen in my life? The sunlight was streaming down, going through the curtain and resting on me. But it wasn't bright enough to cast away the darkness, nor was it warm enough to make me feel safe.

Then I realized, I would never be safe.

I soaked in my own thoughts until a miserable cry broke out from my mother's room, pulling me back into the reality. I frowned, walking to my mother's room.

Apparently, I was not the only one who had bad dreams.

Prim was lying beside mother, her body curved like a ball. Her eyes were still closed, but her expressions were painful. She covered her ears with her hands.

I went to her and gently shook her shoulders. Slowly, she opened her eyes. When she saw me, the fear in her eyes faded. She gave me a weak smile. 'Hey, Katniss.' she slipped down the bed quietly, not wanting to disturb mom. The two of us went to my bedroom. 'Having bad dreams?' I said, while making some tea for both of us. Prim usually went to sleep with mother whenever she had nightmares. She nodded, said, 'so do you?' I nodded. We sighed. These days, I dreamt of some dreadful things almost every night. Last time it was Gale's sad face, and this time, President Snow, warning me about the consequences. I shook my head, trying to clear my mind. 'What about you, Prim? What bad dreams do you have?' once more, her gleaming eyes dimmed. 'I dream, that I am picked _again_.' she started to sob, and I embraced her tightly. Nothing could hurt my sister. Without saying the word 'tribute', I already knew the meaning of 'picked'.

'Hey, Prim. Look at me. You don't have to worry, right? Last time they had picked you already, but I volunteered to be the female tribute. I really don't remember which two years they had picked the same person, so most probably it won't happen. You don't have to worry.' I smoothed her hair. But then I thought about it. Was it really impossible for the Capitol to pick her again? I could never, ever predict what they would do. Who knew if they had some wicked plans to increase the rate of Prim being picked as the tribute? But I blamed myself. I was getting too nervous and suspicious. To my surprise, I found that I was singing the song, the song which I sang to Rue when she was about to pass away. Thinking about it, my voice trembled and died in my throat. Prim must have felt that, because she looked at me and tried to smile. 'I think you are right, Katniss. I shouldn't be worried.' then she hugged me again, whispered, 'Rue's death was not your fault. Don't blame yourself.' she stood up and stretched her arms. The way her arms stretched like a bird, ready to fly, reminded me of the dead girl of District 11 again. In fact, whenever I saw Prim, I saw Rue also. This scene was so familiar to me: I remembered clearly what happened in the morning of the day of Reaping of the 74th Hunger Games, that Prim had the dream of being picked as the tribute, as same as the one she had just told me; also, the song which I sang to Rue as the final salutation I gave to her, as same as the song which I sang to Prim to comfort her. The memories rushed into my mind, so real, so _unberable_. I knew I could never get rid of them, especially Rue's death, because she was like a duplicate of my sister. Prim was Rue. Rue was Prim. Everytime I looked at little Prim, I suffered. But everytime I did not cry. This was because I knew, that my family needed me. I had to be the strong one, and who knew what would happen if I had a total meltdown.

Rue. Cato. Fox Face. All the other dead tributes. The Tracker Jackers. The thirst. The tears. The blood.

_The hunger_.

These were what the Capitol left to us after the Games. Those who had once participated in the competition would never be able to make these horrible memories disappear. We lived with it every day, every minute, every second. We felt pain. We felt weak. We felt hopeless. Most probably, this was what the Capitol wanted us to be.

Yet we allowed the existence of it. We tolerated it every second, yet no one dared to _speak up_.

My fists clenched when I thought about it. 'Katniss? Are you alright?' Prim asked, her face showed anxiety and concern. I quickly masked my emotions. Although Prim had grown a lot since the world messed up in front of her, I was not sure whether she could handle these things at this stage. I wouldn't tell her, at least not now. 'I'm fine,' I replied calmly. 'Do you think we can have some breakfast? I'm starving.' I shifted the subject, trying desperately to not to think about the Games.

Prim gave me a genuine smile. 'Of course. I'll go and get some goat milk.' 'And I'll go and visit Peeta for some bread. What do you want? Nuts, raisins or yoghurt?' Prim laughed at the last one. 'Yoghurt flavour. Your favourite.' she said. I grinned, patting Prim's shoulders. With that, she was gone.

I changed my clothes and grab some money. Peeta and I would have a lot to talk.

...

Before I reached the bakery, I could already smell it from a distance. Rich scent of yeast, butter and jam poured out of the shop and spread widely in the air, making my stomach grumbling like crazy. I hadn't realize how hungry I was until I reached the store. I opened the front door of Peeta's bakery, and instantly I was surrounded by the warm atmosphere of the shop since there was an oven. Placing on the table, was a selection of mouth-watering pastries and meringues, beside them, dollops of cream were added on top of a big pound cake. But I couldn't see my little round-shape bread with yoghurt spreading on top. Nevertheless, I quickly snatched a mini cranberry muffin with dried pomegrante, which was freshly-baked, to curb my hunger cravings.

'You know that gobbling muffins is not good to your belly, right, Katniss?' a familiar voice rose, stopping me from grabbing a few more muffins. I smiled to myself while turning around.

Peeta's face was cheerful and warm, droplets of sweat rolling down his cheek. He was wearing an apron and a pair of safety gloves. His scent had a subtle hint of cinnamon, cumin and some other condiments which I couldn't call their names. But my focus was on his hands, holding a full plate of the yoghurt bread which I loved the most. My stomach made a loud protest, loud enough for Peeta to hear. He chuckled and handed me one piece of that bread. 'Come on, Katniss. Your face look like a starving tiger which discovered a prey after a serious famine.' When I was about to snatch the piece of bread from him, something struck me suddenly, inside my mind. What did Peeta say?_Like a starving tiger which discovered a prey after a serious famine. _At first I thought it was just a joke, but there was something...strangely familiar with this statement.

Like a starving tiger which discovered a prey after a serious famine.

Like a starving tiger.

_Starving_.

My eyes blinked. 'No, Peeta. I am not starved. _They_ starved. In District 12.' I murmured softly. Peeta's smile froze. He knew what I meant by 'they'.

Yes, this was what I saw in District 12 everyday. Those skinny children, they had to deal with hunger, illness and poverty every second. Their face glowed like a million stars whenever they saw food, because food was never enough in District 12. Right now, when Peeta and I were gabbing, there were countless people starving outside the bakery door. Their face really looked like a starving tiger which discovered a prey after a serious famine when they found only a piece of unwanted, stale cake or a small pack of candies on the ground. They had not seen or eaten anything more than that quantity or better than that quality, so even a piece of stale cake excited them so much. There were always poor kids standing outside the bakery, waiting eagerly for the bakers to throw out the charred bread. This was already a nice meal, and if Peeta secretly gave them pastries stuffed with chocolate, they would jump up and down and scream like people winning a lottery game. This was the thing that happaned in District 12 almost everyday. Again, we allowed the existence of it. Watching people starved, some even starved to death. Just like Peeta and I, and many other participants of the Hunger Games, we allowed the Capitol to do this to us without saying a word.

Outside the shop, leaning against the window, were three kids staring at us through the glass. No, they were not staring at _us_, but the plate of yoghurt bread Peeta was holding. When I laid eyes on them, they quickly strolled away. But one kid with short crimson hair, turned to look at us once more. I could see only the pair of sad eyes before he jogged away with the other two children. Suddenly I remembered him. On the day of Reaping of the 74th Hunger Games, when they announced I was the volunteered female tribute, he was the first one who put his three fingers on his lips, and then raised them to my direction. My heart ached when I thought of him. He, too, was starving, as well as many other people in District 12.

It sounded like the most ridiculous thing in the world, to say that _I_ was starving when there was a full plate of bread just beside me. After seeing those kids standing outside the bakery, their hungry eyes fixed on the yoghurt bread, I had lost my appetite instantly. 'Listen, Peeta, I know it isn't the right time to talk, but I have to ask a few things before I go. Firstly, how's Haymitch?' I thought I had stayed in the shop too long and Prim must start to worry about me.

Peeta shook his head. 'I visited him two days ago. Without alchohol, he literally can't survive, but I gave him some bread and tea before I left.' I nodded, planning a visit to Haymitch's place to...talk. 'And have you read the newspaper from the Capitol? The report says they are satisfied with us.' the question behind my words was 'what do you think the Capitol will do next so as to convince the citizens we are deeply in love?' but of course I didn't say it. Not here, not now. Peeta gave me a meaningful look. 'Yeah, I guess so. Hey, Katniss, what about I come to your place at dusk? We can even invite Haymitch for dinner together.' I got it. We'll talk about this later.

I purchased some cranberry muffins and my yoghurt-flavoured bread, and left the bakery silently. The last thing I saw before heading home, was the three kids, still wandering around, waiting for stale cakes and charred bread.

...

**End of Chapter One**

_So, what do you think about the length of this chapter? Is it too long, too short or just appropriate? Please review and comment. By the way, may I ask what is the proper terms for the Winners' Journey? And the song which Katniss sang to Rue? And the black market in District 12? Thank you ~_

_..._


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I'm not Suzanne Collins and I do not own the Hunger Games.

**Chapter Two **Katniss

Sometimes I doubted my life, and the purpose of living instead of killing myself soon after the Games closed. Looking back at the past, however, I could see many opportunities to make an end to it, but that time I didn't realize them, and how my precious delicate life was at great risk. In fact not my life, but lives of my beloved ones: mother, Prim, Gale, Peeta, Haymitch, Madge and his mayor father, and Peeta and Gale's family. Ironically, I did want to die now, but I literally couldn't. So it made my life sounded like a big wonderful joke. _Katniss didn't want to die when she could. She couldn't when she wanted to be dead. _Haha.

'I can escape from all this,' I muttered to myself. Why did I refuse Gale's request on the day of reaping? If only I could run away with him and managed to live to a ripe old age, I could escape from eternal hunger and poverty in District 12. Why did I agree that Peeta and I would pretend to be a couple at the first place? Part of me liked this alliance, because he really was a skillful fighter with strong muscles which I didn't have, and he made an excellent partner when it came to hand-to-hand combat on the battlefield. Besides, we gained lots of sponsors indeed, and that helped both of us to survive longer. But part of me knew it was wrong to befriend with Peeta. It's because I owed him a lot. He saved me not once, he comforted me when I had a total breakdown, and he even came to love me. He cured me, on the arena, both physically and mentally. But I paid nothing back to him. At least I couldn't pay him back by loving him-I didn't know my feelings towards him. If I regarded Peeta as a powerful enemy in the Hunger Games and swore to myself that I was determined to kill him, we wouldn't stick in this 'Katniss-Gale-Peeta' love triangle pain-fest. If he didn't confess his love for me that night, I wouldn't start wondering whether I was kind of liked him too. The worst of all, we did develop something during the Games. The relationship between Peeta and I was definitely complicated. I tried to treat Peeta as a friend, but after all this time, after we had shared so many intimate memories in our lives in the Games, it's hard to go back to the plain form of friendship anymore. But we weren't a pair of lovers. So what were we? It's difficult to divine. Maybe I did love Peeta, but I didn't want to admit it because of Gale. Maybe I loved him, but I did not know how to cope with it. Maybe I didn't love him, but I did not say it to him. Maybe I simply didn't know whether I loved him or not. What I really knew was Peeta truly loved me, but he didn't feel happy. It was because he knew, that I didn't feel the same way he felt for me. This made me felt guilty, and my heart ached whenever I saw Peeta. He was cheerful and smart all the time, but I knew it was fake. Under his mask, under his surface of happiness, he suffered from great pain. Such pain that I couldn't describe and ease. If we went separated at first, so many things would be different.

Then it came to a more thorny issue. If I didn't take out that handful of poisonous berries-Nightlock, the Capitol wouldn't be suspicious and thought that I wanted to betray them. If I could simply kill Peeta at that moment, I would be a typical successful winner of the 74th Hunger Games. Then I wouldn't mess up things, and there would be no actions of rebellion among the other districts. The Capitol would continue to organize the Games, and the 12 districts would live their ordinary lives. This was supposed to be the ending of the Hunger Games-until I ruined it by taking out the berries. I ruined everything. If I didn't deliver that speech to Rue's family during my visit to District 11 on the Victory Parade, the whistling old man would not be killed by the Peacekeepers. District 8 wouldn't start to rebel against the Capitol, and so many lives could be saved. Why did I want to not to follow the way of playing the Games? If only I could kill as many tributes as possible, just liked what the Capitol wanted us to do, to slash everyone into bits and pieces, instead of refusing to surrender under their force, then I could be the final winner of the Games and had wealth and fame. I could almost live a happily ever after if things went like this. But unfortunately, I chose to stand up against the injustice and dictatorship, and that caused me severe consequences. Unprecedented wars would happen, people would shed tears and blood if we chose to fight for our rights and freedom. The burden was too heavy to afford, so many of us just zipped our lips, and shut our mouths tightly, remaining as silent as ever. But I started an opening. I gave them a false hope, by volunteering as tribute, by fighting brilliantly in the arena, by taking out the Nightlock berries instead of killing Peeta. It was all my fault. Who knew I would become the Girl on Fire? Who could predict what I would do next? Who could give answers to my questions? Fate was that cruel and unfair. I lived with my anguish and fear everyday, but I hated myself for doing nothing on it. I hated being weak and vulnerable, but in fact I was. I wondered what Peeta would think? Did he worry the same thing I worried? I thought I could see the faces of those dead tributes, scolding and chiding us for being so cold-blooded. My hands were covered in their blood which could not be washed away. I was a murderer, a killer. Forever sinful I was. I winced and whimpered, but that didn't help much. It was impossible to forget the Hunger Games utterly, and that drove me crazy.

But on the other hand, I couldn't help thinking about the possibility of starting a rebellion in Panem. The thought of escaping the cruelty and punishment of the Capitol was too temting and irresistible that I thought about it automatically when the memories of the Games hit me. There were a few vital factors to rebel against the Capitol, and I thought I had most of them. First thing was, obviously, the qualities of perseverance, bravery, passion and determination. I was brave in both the Games and daily life, this I was sure; I could hunt and kill preys, set snares and distinguish the edible plants. Not everyone had the courage to cross the border into the forest. And in the Hunger Games, I could also kill people-if necessary. Thinking of this, I worried that if it really came to a war, would I be able to kill the innocent people in the Capitol? I meant, besides those officials and Gamemakers and President Snow himself, I hated nobody in that vanity fair. They were the ones who proposed the Hunger Games, so I would certainly kill them once I saw the chance; but for the other citizens, they were, somehow, innocent. They watched the Games just liked us, but that was because it was compulsory. They didn't have a choice either. Some of the wealthies even came to donate their money to sponsor their favourite tributes. Without them, Peeta and I and all the winners of the Hunger Games practically couldn't win. I thought, at least that counted for something. I shook my head, and moved to the next point. I did have the elements of being a opponent or traitor, but I need military force. No army, no victory-this was the basic principle of starting a war. Would the districts people stand up for themselves and for the future of the next generations? Were they willing to join me? District 12 missed the mark by having poor health conditions, but District 1, District 2 and District 4...I couldn't say anything about them. They were unbelievably rich and prosperous, almost comparable to the Capitol, but I wasn't sure which side they would go. If they did join us, we'll be indestructible and invincible. Vice versa, if they turned to face the Capitol, we would be dead immediately. As for District 8 and District 11, I was sure they wanted to join the fight, especially after the Victory Parade and I delivering the speech in District 11. But, as I mentioned before, not everyone had courage. I could only hoped for the best and prepared for the worst. Thirdly, we had to think how to realize this plan, to make it possible. How could we actually discuss this matter when we had to beware of the closed circuit television system and cameras even at home? Should I sent pigeon mail instead, just liked our ancestors and predecessors? And from what source could my army fetched weapons? And they had to learn to use them even if they had swords and shields and spears and all that stuffs. Suddenly I felt ridiculous to start a war with a bunch of 'soldiers' who didn't know how to use their tools. And the fourth thing was the Capitol itself. What would they do to prevent the rebellion from spreading? The most common way was to let out quite a number of Peacekeepers to fight us, and we would be crashed down in a couple of hours. But the circumstance would change if only we learnt to fight, and to speak more accurately, to fight _skillfully_. Would they sent out a pack of horrible muttations? I had already knew how powerful the muttations were in the Hunger Games, and also the way the Gamemakers could change the plains into a dangerous battlefield. The most fatal weapon they had was actually technology. With that, they could create whatever thing they wanted, including weapons. How I wished District 13 wasn't perishd already! If they were still here, we could disarm the force of the Capitol by using the nuclear power in District 13. But District 13 was already the past tense and also a sensitive issue that was not to be mentioned.

I sighed as I thought about all this things that bothered me these days. It was originally a beautiful and peaceful afternoon with a profusion of sunlight streaming down, daisies and tulips which were planted by mother in the backyard dancing cheerfully, and sparrows, ravens and my mockingjays tweeting and cooing on the branches of mistletoes and willows. But I paid no heed to them. My mood had gone long already, and almost nothing could cheer me up. I sat on the couch and took out that great big book of medicine and plants which was first written by my father and then edited by Peeta and me, with Peeta the illustrator and me the writer. Flipping from pages to pages, I could smell the faint fragrance of my father on the old yellow paper, and see the delicate drawings of Peeta. I appreciated the sketching and read the content slowly, and, when spotting a mistake, used a pencil to make amendments to the book. I found extra calmness in this activity, and it helped with my consideration and attentiveness which I need so badly. From what I could tell, my father's soul had never left me. I could feel his presence in the book and most probably, in the forest where he belonged. When I was hunting in the woods, or struggling to survive in the Hunger Games, I could feel his gaze upon me, his gentle words and useful advices given to me. But that didn't make me uneasy, since I was not afraid of ghost; I felt his spirit inherited to me, and make me a live person. I shall remembered every bits of him, because it's father who inspired me the most. After his death, I 've grown up a lot, and I leanrt to hunt, to use bows and arrows, to reaccept my mother, and I even came to know a friend, my best friend who knew my thoughts completely and was willing to protect and escort me whenever I asked-Gale. To make a long story short, if father didn't pass away in the mine explotion, there wouldn't be Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire. His death had taught me a lesson: be brave, be tough, be yourself. That was the most important message he had ever given to me.

'Thank you, father,' I murmured, a single tear rolling down my cheek, 'for raising me and loving me.'

...

Prim was back from school at four, which was half an hour earlier than usual. 'The teacher says that tomorrow night we have to watch TV because the president is going to announce the arrangements of the 75th Hunger Games, which is the Quarter Quell,' she dropped down her schoolbag and said, voice trembling. My face darkened. The Quarter Quell was a special system of the Hunger Games, and its purpose was to further remind and punish the treachery which our ancestors performed-that was to say, to further torture and torment us. Every 25 years, the Quarter Quell took place once, and the Capitol would introduce some new rules and regulations for it so as to increase the difficulty of winning the Games. The Quarter Quell had already happened twice, one in the 25th Hunger Games and the other 50th Hunger Games. This was the year of the 75th Hunger Games, the third Quarter Quell. I thought I should be glad that I was in the 74th Hunger Games instead of the 75th. The Quarter Quell was extremely hard to win, and the programme would be more exciting-more exciting for the Capitol, more devastating for us tributes. I wondered what would the Capitol do to frighten all of us: increase the amount of tributes? Cancel the support of Cornucopia? Toss the tributes into an outer-space-like arena? Honestly, I was just playing with my imagination since we couldn't predict what the Capitol would do.

'No matter there's Quarter Quell or not, I'm hungry now,' I replied softly, once again hiding my emotions from Prim. 'Wanna eat something?' I threw an apple to her, and she caught it in the mid-air. Her eye-and-hand coordination had improved, because she used to drop anything that I threw to her, for instance a pair of socks, a volleyball and her pencil case. Then I came up with this idea when I was biting my apple. 'Hey, Prim,' I leant to her side and lowered my voice, 'do you want to learn archery?' her reponse was out of my expectation. She jumped up violently, the apple stuck in between her hands and lips, and she rolled her eyes unbelievably, staring straight at me. I burst into laughters, but that only panicked her further. 'Katniss! I mean, I have no gift on this category and besides, I really don't feel good by shooting someone or something-you know how I love those animals. And, don't you think that I'm too little to carry a regular bow and a quiver of arrows?' she defended herself. I sighed, anticipated an answer like this. I was kidding, of course, if someday Prim suddenly got addicted to archery, that wasn't really Prim. She loved and cherished lives more than anyone in the world, even if it meant to starve herself so as to feed enough food for Buttercup. 'Easy, Prim. I'm just talking. I know you will say no. But I'm just wondering, learning a new skill may be good for your future. Your eye-and-hand coordination is improving, and that is one major requirement for becoming an archer. Even if you don't use it to kill, you at least know how to do with a bow and later in the time you may need it, right? I cannot protect you forever, Prim. Who knows what will happen to me? I may feel better if you know how to safeguard yourself. So, what do you think?' I waited eagerly for her answer.

She frowned. 'I guess you have a piont...' she finished her apple, and looked down at her slippers. 'Maybe you can teach me how to use the bow if necessary.' she decided, a smile bloomed on her face.

_'If necessary.'_ I repeated, smiling at Prim.

I checked the vegetables basket in the kitchen and found there were no tomatoes left. So I picked up my plastic bag and decided to visit the Hob. I wanted to make stir-fried tomatoes and eggplant, one of the dish which both Peeta and Haymitch loved to eat. Thinking of tonight's conversation, my heart pounded fast and I'm getting nervous. After two weeks of endless cocktail parties and banquets on the Victory Parade, we finally had to discuss on this matter seriously. The afternoon thoughts flowed back into my mind: the situation at District 12, the rising actions of rebellion in different districts and our plan of rebel against the Capitol. I shuddered even just thinking about it. Could it be possible? Could we be that brave and couragous? If we really started a war, what would be left? Freedom to the civilians? Killings and injuries? I was unsure about this. Then a voice whispered in my ears, quiet and poisonous, resembling a viper, so quietly moving, but definitely fatal.

_Think about the consequences before you acted._

Consequences. I stopped in the middle of the street. My internal radar was tingling so fast that it was about to explode. I haven't think of this! Consequences! I finally realized why I was hesitating like this because it's consequences that made me scared. I was frightened, because the consequences were way too big and serious that I couldn't afford. _Cause and consequences exercise now: Peeta and I failed to convince the Capitol that we were 'crazily in love' and I refused Peeta's proposal. Consequence? President Snow would be mad and the citizens would start to get suspicious. Next: I declined to kill people in the Hunger Games, which was like a tease to the Panem government. Consequence? Mother and Prim's lives would be in great danger. Next: Gale was determined to group the people in District 12 to start a rebellion. Consequence? He and his army would face the challenge from the Capitol. Most importantly: if a war broke out and all the districts joined to fight alongside with Peeta and I, what would happen? Consequence? Dead._ This was the case. And I was sure that President Snow already knew all these, and he thought I would most probably listened and obeyed to his command because of a simple reason: I had no choice. Indeed I was only a soldier in his chess game. He could destroy me whenever he liked. And I couldn't decide for the districts people, could I? I couldn't send them to the battlefield without asking them, I couldn't do that while I knew they would die on the field. But if I didn't recruit army, there would be no chance for us to regain our freedom. This was a life altering choice: should I remain silence and live in fake happiness, ignoring the fact that at least half population of all districts suffered from famine and poverty? Or, the other way round, should I start a war and fight the Capitol, while witnessing the deaths of the innocent people? Should I choose to live in injustice and the threat of Hunger Games, or should I choose to fight that indicated an endless cycle of war and death, death and war? Either side would cause deaths, the difference was only the number of deaths. Either we died because of hunger, or we died because of battle. I could see the necessity of sacrifices, but I didn't dare to face it. I should be accused of cowardry and executed in front of the public. This would be easier for all of us. Suddenly, a grip on my shoulder jolted me back to the reality.

'What are you daydreaming about, Catnip?' it was Gale. He was wearing the uniform of a mine worker, his tan skin and hands were covered in black ashes. There were a few scratches on his palms, and he bandaged them using cotton cloth. His hair was basically as messy as a nest of birds, but his pupils shown concern and care. Actually there was still an emotion hidden in his irises, but I was not sure about that...was that _love_? I blushed slightly when I was thinking about it. I used to think there was nothing romantic between Gale and I, but the lines of friendship between us were blurred already as the days passed. He no longer felt liked a reliable and responsible hunting partner, instead, he felt liked...somebody you could count and depend on _forever_. Once again, I had the odd feeling of betrayal inside my heart, as if I had just betrayed and hurted someone deeply and permenantly. Then I knew it. I was thinking of Peeta. Ugh! This was really troublesome when it came to love. They-Peeta and Gale-were equally caring and brave and intelligent, and I wished I could have both of them as good friends, but it was almost impossible. I could feel the clash of emotions between them, and I knew both envied the other. It wasn't _I_ who wanted to choose, but _they_ forced me to choose between them. Someday I'll had to choose who to spend the rest of my life with, and I really, really didn't want that day to come.

I cleared my throat, and said, 'it's nothing. Just planning to go to the Hob to do some shopping.' Gale coughed and chuckled. 'Yes, I should believe you. _Oh Katniss is standing perfectly still on the street like a sculpture with her face which shows pure horror, but she says it is nothing! How funny!' _I groaned, neglecting what he said. 'Shut your mouth, Gale, and don't follow me. Rory, Vick and Posy are probably worrying about you for returning home so late!' I headed towards the black market, but Gale came after me anyway. 'What? That's the attitude you show to your best friend after a two-week separation?' he took out a handkerchief from his pocket and started to wipe away the dirt on his face. He became more handsome instantly. We turned to the left, and the world's biggest ruined factory cum the filthiest, rats-and-cockroaches-inhabited black market in the slums of District 12 loomed in front of us. Deafening noices poured out from it, with shoutings of sellings and buyings and bargainings, fire roaring as Greasy Sae boiled the water, prepared to concoct a mix-flavour soup from the leftovers and the wild dogs the hunters given to her earlier the day. Tailors sewing and weaving, carpenters crafting and sketching, and hawkers' chatting and laughing. A typical Hob. Suddenly a warm comfortable feeling rushed over me, as I stood in silence, watching the disciplined chaos in the Hob. For the first time since I was back from the Capitol, I felt like home and welcomed. looking at their smily faces, I knew, whatever terrible happened, they were always there to support and defend the entire District 12, and they would face the danger optimistically. I was a homing pigeon; no matter how far I flew, there was a final destination where I would always go: District 12. Home.

A genuine smile crept onto my face. My lips curved upwards, revealing my teeth, meanwhile releasing a joyful laugh. Gale seemed astonished to see me acting like this, but he smiled anyway. And he became even more astonished when I pulled him into a small hug. 'Honestly, Gale, I have been missing you when I'm in the Capitol,' I whispered softly, 'in fact not only you, but everything in District 12, the Hob, the mine workers, the candy shop and the forest. I especially missed squirrels.' Gale laughed out when he heard this. 'I love District 12. I love it because it's my home, my only refuge in this world. I feel belonged here. No matter how modern the city the Capitol is, how beautiful their dresses and gowns are, how delicious their cuisines are, there is always a piece of District 12 in my heart. All the time.' when I finally pulled apart, it was my turn to be astonished as I saw tears forming in Gale's eyes. Luckily he didn't let it fall down. Instead, he twisted a smile and said, 'you don't know how happy I am when I hear you saying this, Katniss, and how thankful I am when you are back to District 12 safe and soundly. I am proud of having a best friend like you, Katniss. There is always a piece of you in my heart too, all the time.' I looked at him, his dark grey eyes glistened, his face brightened. 'Yes. All the time.' I whispered, only him and I could hear. _All the time. _

After that I had to hurried. I had gone for nearly an hour, and that made me had only about 45 minutes to cook supper. Carrying a whole basket of tomatoes, scallions and celeries, it was practically impossible to run, so Gale gave me a hand by taking some goods for me. I asked him whether he would like to come over to my place, but he rejected and said his mother had already prepared his dinner. He promised he would drop by next time, and with that he was gone after arriving at my house. I took out my keys and opened the door, and in my anticipation, Peeta and Haymitch were already in the house, the former playing with Buttercup and the latter had just come out from the washroom. 'Hey, sweetheart, what makes you so late?' it's only Haymitch who nicknamed me 'Sweetheart', which was pretty awful. 'It's only six o'clock on the dot, Haymitch. Not late enough.' Peeta said cheerfully. I glanced at them and smiled to myself. When there were nothing related to Hunger Games or things that bothered them, almost nothing on the world could let their spirits down. 'Yeah. And I shouldn't wonder that you two have finished the whole pack of toffees, right? Don't you feel guilty after gobbling down someone's candies?' I said rather angrily as I spotted the emptiness of the snacks container. Haymitch simply smirked.

I quickly ran into the kitchen and found Prim. 'Need help? I 've waited eagerly,' she said, picking up a tomato and began to slice it. It's not long before mother secretly joined us. Together, the three of us began chopping vegetables, dicing peppers and garlic, mixing soy sauce and cooking. No words were passed between us, but we all knew who to do this and who to do that. We were mother and sisters and daughters, and our souls were linked and we knew the others' thoughts utterly. It's like an individual with three bodies, but we shared the same mind and idea. I stared at mother. How young and beautiful she looked when she was paying attention in doing something! The tireness and soreness presented in her gradually replaced by pure energy and passion, and she glowed in high efficiency and virtuosity. The same thing happened on Prim. She was like a duplicate to mother, but a younger and slenderer one. The power she possessed, when compared to mother, was lighter and more high-spirited. And I-I don't know how I looked like in their eyes, but I guessed my image was in between Prim and mother. A rather childish teenage girl with a sense of maturity increasing rapidly, a courageous, sensitive and savvy adolescent. For the first time, I felt the great unity of us-the three women-gradually embraced me. I used to think that mother was somewhat weak and not belonged to this family when father died, because she was liked a walking dead at that period without caring for Prim and I, her own daughters. I used to hate her so badly. The fragile line that bound us together used to break when I didn't believe mother and she trust no one and Prim stuck in between the two of us, hesitating which side to rely on. But after the cruel Games kicked off, we were somehow, 'awoke' from our mistakes and faults. Each of us had learnt and grown a lot since then, mother and I mentally and Prim physically in addition. Mother realized no matter how tough, how hopeless the situation became like, she still had two daughters in this world. She was not alone or abandoned. She started to improve, bit by bit, at first by doing some chores, then played with Prim, approached and took care of me gradually, and finally return to the way a mother should be like. And she gained our reverence and love as reward, of course. For Prim, she was the one who changed the most. She used to be very quiet and timid, and she turned chicken whenever there were thunderstorms or lightning, just like a little girl. But now she had her own way of solving the problems, she became more and more independent as the time flew. It's because she knew that someday, she'll need to stand up on her own. Prim was no longer a hatchling bird, she was ready to fly at the moment. I believe she would make great success in the future. And since I believed in them-mother and Prim, I was almost sure that they believed in me, too. 'The Girl on Fire,' I muttered to myself. I thought I deserved a title like that: powerful, fearless and _fatal_. But not fatal enough for the Capitol.

We finished the meal quickly and Haymitch, Peeta and I volunteered to do the dishes. Peeta placed all the plates, bowls and utensils in two sinks, and Haymitch fetched the sponge. Mother and Prim were strolling in the backyard, admiring the daisies. This was the right time, I thought. I glanced at Prim and mother before I closed the kitchen door silently.

'So,' I began, using a towel to dry those clean dishes, 'we all know what is happening.' I paused, waiting for them to answer me. For exactly 5 minutes neither Peeta nor Haymitch spoke a word. I could tell that they wanted to neglect the truth and dodge my question, but we _had_ to talk about this sooner or later. 6 minutes passed. No response. 6 and a half minutes. Still, no one spoke up. 7 minutes. When I thought the conversation had to end like this with only me the speaker, Peeta said hoarsely, 'Yeah, we all know what is happening, Katniss. You know. I know. _The Capitol_ knows.' I wanted to vomit when I heard that name. 'The problem is, how to stop all these freaking rebellions and keep ourselves in one piece.' I guessed his meaning was 'keep ourselves alive'. Haymitch sneezed, and said, 'in my perspective, there's nothing to worry about. You two can simply get married and the whole thing will be a perfect happily ever after. In this way the Capitol will surely believe in you, my dear Star-Crossed Lovers.' when he noticed my expression, he rolled his eyes. 'Don't tell me you want to be the traitor, sweetheart.' the tone of his voice was sarcastic, and that made me angry. 'Yes, I want to start the rebellion! I can endure no more, Haymitch. Look at District 12, look at those skinny children who dressed in rags and those who starved to death. Tell me, Haymitch, in what ways can you ignore their pain? In what ways can you refuse to help them? Tell me!' I shrieked. He groaned and said, 'how many times I have explained to you that you cannot save everyone if starting the rebellion? In fact, you'll put them in worse condition if you really do that. Think about it, Katniss! You are the prime target for the Capitol, and if you rebel against them, they will have an excuse to arrest you because of your treachery. Starting a rebellion is like sending yourself to the traps of the Capitol! You will affect many people before your success, and the rebel army will go to the jail with you if things go bad. That's why I don't like the idea of rebel against the Capitol. But in case you want to commit suicide, go ahead.' I was silent. My fists clenched and my body trembling in anxiety. Finally I gritted my teeth and said resentfully, 'maybe I should just soak in alchohol in the rest of my life, just like you, Haymitch. Only that seems to blind your eyes so you can witnessed hundreds of deaths because of hunger without shedding a single tear.' When I finished, his face turned red and he raised his hand. I thought he was going to slap me, but Peeta came and separated us. 'Hey, easy! What's wrong with you two?' Peeta spluttered. He shook his head in disapproval. 'Ask her,' Haymitch replied, his eyes fixed on me. I fought the urge to argue with him, and my hands trembled. I was holding a plate originally, but it slipped out from my palms and crashed on the ground. _Cling_, a clear sound of breakage. Outside, the voices of mother and Prim diminished. They must have heard what we said. Obviously we should lower our volume.

'What's matter? Oh...no, no, let me pick them up,' mother said as soon as she stepped into the kitchen and saw the splinters of the broken plate. I bent down to help, while Peeta and Haymitch stayed mute. Prim casted them a weird look, as if they were to blamed. In fact, _I_ was the one who should be blamed. My emotions were unstable, and this was certainly a black spot for me. It was difficult to control myself sometime, especially in these situation when I got angry. I cursed under my breath as I picked up the sharp splinters. 'Do you need some chrysanthemum tea? You look tired.' Prim said while staring at me suspiciously. She had realized something between the three of us. In her mind I had never flared up like that before, so she had a point for suspecting me, of course. But she decided not to mention it now anyway. Prim muttered she would go and get some chrysanthemum tea for the three of us, and she vanished immediately. Mother threw the trash away and she also made an excuse and went back to the living room. She gave me a worried look before she left. 'You should be careful next time,' she said quietly. With that, she was gone. Apparently, Prim and mother knew our conversation had not yet finished.

It's not long before we had our cup of hot chrysanthemum tea. Peeta sipped his drink in silence, and Haymitch didn't drink at all. Instead, he focused on me. 'You can shout at me, punch me, slash me or bite me, but I never never allow an insult to me. Understand? You pert little girl, you don't know what I have experienced before,' he said hoarsely, 'even strong alchohol cannot wash my memories away.' His expression reminded me of a wounded yet fierce Husky dog. I sighed. 'Well, I'm not usually like that, Haymitch. Just...sorry, okay?' After sometime, Peeta broke the awkward silence, 'if you two are done, let's go back to the topic. Tomorrow is the Quarter Quell. What do you think the Capitol will do? I'm afraid after what we've done to them in the Hunger Games, they may want to take their revenge on us.' 'Yes, they surely will, but not in this form,' I replied. 'We are winners, don't forget. We are already excluded from the reaping system, so there is no chance for them to torture us with the threat of the Games. Either they go for us, or we go for them. We have to figure out what the Capitol plans next. Arrest us secretly and lie to the public that we cheat in order to win the game?' 'Or simply kill us?' Peeta suggested. 'No, that won't do them any good,' Haymitch protested, 'they'll have to explain to the citizens then. You know how you are so popular among your fans in there.' we all fell silence. Haymitch said again, 'I think the Capitol will not take any actions at this moment. The signs of rebels are not very obvious at this stage-' 'but they will certainly get more obvious later,' I interrupted, 'District 8 is already doing something, as well as District 11.' 'I know, sweetheart. I have not finished yet. I think the Capitol will just wait and see how the circumstance becomes like, and the most peaceful way to solve it is to use whatever power-to force you two get married. They'll even get you to sign some stupid declaration to swear that you will surely be loyal to the Capitol and that winning the Hunger Games is the most honorable thing you have ever achieved-' 'aw, crap. That's terrible,' I looked at Peeta. Haymitch had mentioned marriage. 'I mean, the declaration thing,' I quickly added, not wanting to let Peeta knew that actually both marriage and declaration made me feel awful. 'Yeah, but only in this way can the district people give up their hope,' Haymitch finished, his eyes dimmed.

'But Haymitch, you said the Capitol will wait and see what the situation becomes like, that means they are hesitating of what to do. If they are _hesitating_, does that means they are _scared_?' Peeta said. I considered. Would the Capitol ever get frightened by his own people? It sounded ridiculous...'I don't think they will be scared by us, Peeta. They are the one in charge! They are the Capitol! How on earth they can get frightened by us, powerless and vulnerable as we are?' Haymitch spoke my thoughts. 'Yes, we are indeed weak, but we have fame now. The image of us in the Capitol are brilliant and beautiful winners of the Hunger Games, and they trust our abilities. They even like us, especially Katniss. See how the people call her? ''The Girl on Fire''! If we really call a war, I shouldn't doubt there will be a plenty of supporters in the Capitol. They rely on entertainment, Haymitch. I dare say at least one third of them will pay anything to see how things become like between their government and us. It's dramatic, isn't it? As for the districts, except those wealthy ones, the others will most probably go to our aid. So that's why I think the Capitol will be scared, because we are like fire: unpredictable and uncontrollable. Nobody knows how many people will listen to us, and nobody knows how will we react if Capitol start attack. Even ourselves do not know.' Peeta finished. He had his points, though. 'But I think they will not be scared,' insisted Haymitch, 'all they have to do is to lie. Lie to the citizens, and force you two to cooperate with them by getting married.' My eyelids were getting heavier and heavier, and the stars had poked out their heads on the dark sky outside the house. Peeta and Haymitch were still insisting their own thoughts.

'No matter how,' I interrupted, 'it's late now. Neither the Capitol nor us know what the other will do, so why not wait until tomorrow night to see the arrangements of the Quarter Quell? We can discuss later on.' The two of them seemed to agree. After saying goodbye to Prim and mother, they were ready to go. Haymitch finished the whole cup of chrysanthemum tea before he left. 'So, the next Hunger Games is coming,' Peeta said, 'and may the odds-' he looked at me. I gave him a weak smile and continued, '-be ever in your favor.' he stepped out of the house, and turned once more. He came forward and gently plant a kiss on my forehead. 'Goodnight, Katniss,' he muttered, 'Goodnight, Peeta.' I replied. I saw him walked with Haymitch, then vanishing into the darkness.

When I returned to my bedroom, Prim was already sleeping soundly on my bed. I crawled onto the bed and lay beside her. 'Sleep well, Prim,' I said very quietly, 'big day ahead.'

...

_So, here is the second chapter. I really can't believe I have written so many words in this chapter, way too many than in the first one. But I hope I can get continuous inspiration so to provide long chapters for all of you! Hope you like it and review, please!_


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